


Where Is Your Boy Tonight (I Hope He Is A Gentleman)

by zoodlino



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College, Jealousy, M/M, Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:34:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22092652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoodlino/pseuds/zoodlino
Summary: Arthur and Eames are at a party, but Eames is with someone else..
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception), Eames/Robert Fischer
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Where Is Your Boy Tonight (I Hope He Is A Gentleman)

Arthur really, really shouldn’t be staring. He also probably shouldn’t be drinking this heavily, but each one of Ariadne’s worried side-glances only makes him raise his cup to his lips all over again.

Arthur is, truly, indubitably, a huge fucking idiot. And now he’s all alone as well. At the hottest party of the year. Typical.

Part of him thinks he should have seen this coming. After all, Eames has a reputation. And yeah, maybe it’s not right to judge a book by its cover, but Eames has spent enough parties plastered to various people’s lips for there just to be an inkling of truth behind it. Not that it makes this hurt any less. 

To say they are all over each other would be wrong. If they were at least somehow filthily intertwined, going at it right there on the couch, Arthur would find it easier to hate them. But no, the two of them are honest to god _necking_. Fischer nuzzles into Eames‘ neck and Arthur’s vision blurs, unwilling to accept the reality in front of him. 

Arthur is jealous, in a way that leaves a nasty taste in his mouth. Or maybe’s thats the vodka, which tastes distinctly like paint thinner. Arthur really ought to be watering it down with something, but then again, Arthur also ought to be in Eames‘ arms at this exact moment, so things aren’t really turning out the way Arthur wants.

There’s a rosy blush on Eames‘ cheeks, whether from drink or Fischer’s adminstrations, Arthur can’t tell. It matches the shade of Eames‘ lips, pink and swollen from kissing Fischer, lips that look utterly delectable even in the party’s dim lighting. When Fischer reattaches himself to them, Arthur almost lets out a growl.

Internally fuming, Arthur casts his glance around the room. There isn’t exactly anything captivating enough to tear him away from the sight of Fischer and Eames; a group of people has started playing truth or dare in the corner, and an impromptu dance floor has opened up beyond the living room. Otherwise, it’s pretty much your standard party landscape, replete with a bunch of booze and the occasional crying person.

Arthur wonders why he even bothers.


End file.
